


Work Harder (Langst) ~ under revision~

by The_Depressed_Huffle_Puffle



Category: Langst - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender, klance - Fandom
Genre: Depressed Lance, I hurt Lance a bit, Klance is sort of a thing, Langst, M/M, Self-Harm Lance, Suicidal Lance, The paladins aren't very good with Lance, Work Harder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2018-12-17 02:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11841930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Depressed_Huffle_Puffle/pseuds/The_Depressed_Huffle_Puffle
Summary: Lance was always insecure. He never needed to be told twice he was worthless or useless. Just a word can set someone off and it all starts with Pidge.Triggers: Self-Harm, Suicidal tendencies, Harsh words, Language, suicidePlease message me before reposting. I’ve found my works posted throughout the internet without my knowledge.UPDATE! MY WATTPAD IS Ky_Sea_Blue! Any works posted under a different user is NOT me! There is someone on Wattpad PRETENDING to be me. They are NOT! They have also claimed that this is their Ao3. It is not.If you find any of my works, credited or not, please tell me.This story is going under revision. The chapters have been written in a style that I was unfamiliar with and is making it difficult for me to add to. Luckily, with the revision, this story will be updated more frequently and the chapters will probably be longer.Sorry for any inconveniences I may have caused.





	1. Work Harder #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the rewritten chapter of chapter 1. To find the original Chapter go to @why-not-langst-haha-kill-me on tumblr and click on "Master List" in the about section.

 “Lance, what were you thinking?”

It wasn’t his fault, or at least that’s what he thought. If he hadn’t left his position to help Keith then-

“Your actions could have gotten one of us killed. That cannot be taken lightly. What you did was irrational and compulsive. It put the team at stake and the mission in jeopardy,” Shiro’s voice echoed through the med bay. He took a step forward towards Lance’s direction so that the two were face to face; Shiro looking down at the younger while Lance’s gaze was locked on the body in the pod.

“Shiro,” Lance gestured to the pod, “I understand that what I did wasn’t exceptional and I should’ve asked before doing it, but Keith was surrounded. If I hadn’t interfered when I did Keith could’ve-

“He would have been fine, Lance,” Pidge spoke up from the steps leading to the machines. “Keith would have been able to handle himself fine. You’ve seen him in battle before. He was doing okay before you went in, who knows how it would have played out. Maybe he wouldn’t be in a pod.”

Hunk rubbed the back of his neck, “Pidge, lay off for a minute? To be fair, Keith asked for back up and Lance was the closest to his location.” Hunk moved to where Shiro was still chest to chest with Lance. “You too, Shiro. I get that you and Keith are really close but don’t take it out on Lance.” He placed his hands on Shiro’s arm, pulling away from Lance to give the latter breathing room.

“I’m just stating that if Lance were to have stayed where he was meant to be, then Keith wouldn’t have gotten hurt and we wouldn’t have had this conversation.” Lance reached to his collarbone, applying pressure, using the feeling to ground himself and reminding himself to breathe.

“So basically, if Lance did what he was supposed to do: inform everyone of what he was doing, then we wouldn’t have been in this mess.” Lance froze, his mind working to catch up.

“Pidge, that came out of nowhere. What does that even mean?” Hunk pulled Lance’s hand away from his neck, concerned for the bruising grip Lance was enforcing on his own body. He kept the Cuban’s hand in his own, keeping them from searching out the smaller body.

Pidge folded their hand over their chest, grumbling. “I’m saying that if Lance were to have followed instructions then Keith wouldn’t have been confined to a pod. That maybe if Lance analyzed the outcome and saw that if he interfered then things would go astray then we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“It isn’t number three’s fault. Given the circumstances, I believe Lance did the correct thing, even if the outcome wasn’t so desirable,” Corran chipped in from the monitor. “Shiro, if you could get Allura from the bridge I would be most grateful.” Shiro nodded, walking to the exit containing the childish want to shoulder him on his way out.

Pidge groaned, “How can you not see it, though? Lance goofs off and someone gets hurt. Lance roams off and we almost get killed. Lance doesn’t follow directions and one of us ends up in a pod. I’m not trying to be mean or anything but whenever Lance does something everything kind of just, like, falls apart?”

Lance pulled his hands away from Hunk, opting to keep them at his sides, “I try my best, Pidge. I don’t mean to cause all these problems.”

Pidge uncrosses their arms, “I get that, Lance. It’s just- sometimes I wonder if you’re taking all of this seriously. Every time we go somewhere you joke around and flirt and cause problems and it doesn’t help. I’m starting to doubt if you were the right choice for the Blue Paladin.”

“Pidge!”

Lance’s heard hurt. It felt as if someone threw a well-sized rock at his head and left him to drown. He was shaken, his hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. “I… I try, Pidge. I do. Everyone has different ways of coping. Joking around is mine.”

“Then don’t do that.” Pidge turned to her set up.

“Lance-” Hunk reached out for Lance’s hand, watching him move towards the door. “Lance, come back, please?”

“It’s fine, Hunk. I’m not disagreeing. I do mess around. Maybe it’s time that I work on finding better ways to deal with things.” Lance shrugged, ignoring Hunk’s pleading.

Lance walked out, hearing Hunk calling after him. He continued to walk, making his way to his room.

He ran into Allura and Shiro, opting to continue past them and pretend not to hear their concerned questions.

Once behind the safety of his room, Lance fell apart. He fell to the side of his bed, Lance’s knees on either side of his head. His half smile turned into a grimace, teeth bared and clenched shut. He could taste the salt of his tears as they fell on his tongue. He pulled at his hair, his nails digging into his scalp. His mouth opened in a silent scream, a wail taking the form of a quiet whisper.

He scoffed at himself, throwing back his head and pulling his arms away from him. He really was pathetic, wasn’t he?

 

 


	2. Work Harder #2

Lance rubbed his face, his palms digging into his eyes before running through his hair. The words in his head were restless. Tossing vulgar and degrading terms around as if it were a softball. His head was the bat, each hit sending a painful ring across his thoughts.

 He threw aside his bedsheets, kicking off the fabric that clung to his legs.

It was early morning meaning Keith would be in his room, Pidge would either be sleeping or hiding away from everyone to work. Shiro would be sleeping as would the Alteans. Hunk’s midnight snacking should be over, the Yellow Paladin returning to his room to fall back asleep. 

Lance’s door slid open, revealing an empty corridor. On a normal night, Lance would be able to drown his thoughts with music but tonight the voices were too loud. Bass could never drown his team scolding him, singing couldn’t block out them calling him ‘useless’, and guitar couldn’t stop the nails from digging into his skin.

He hugged his jacket tighter around his figure, the cold air traveling through the layers to his bones. He shivered, his teeth clattering together. He attempted to smother his footfalls, flinching each time a particularly loud step resonated through the quiet of the halls.

 Lance passed the kitchen, freezing when the door opened and a bright blue light blinding him.

 “Oh, Lance!”

Lance cursed internally, “Hey, Hunk! Buddy! Amigo! Pal!” He smiled widely, letting go of his jacket to put his fists into his pockets. He forced his shoulders down in an attempt to look more relaxed. Given the whole ‘I haven’t slept well in two weeks’ look he was rocking, Lance was glad Hunk didn’t bring up his appearance.

He pushed down the whisper telling him that Hunk hadn’t noticed. The Hunk would never notice because he didn’t care and shouldn’t have to spend time with someone as useless as-

 “Lance?”

 Lance grinned wider, reaching to rub the back of his neck, “Sorry, buddy. I’m a little tired. Today’s training was brutal.”

 Hunk returned the gesture, his cheeks raising to make little crinkles in the sides of his eyes. “Yeah,” Hunk nodded, “Allura needs to relax a tiny bit.” Hunk shifted stepped towards Lance, “I made space yogurt! Want some?” He stuck out his hand, holding a jar of said ‘space yogurt.’

 It didn’t look bad, to give the chef credit. The consistency looked like that of Earthen Greek Yogurt, just slightly more condensed. Instead of strawberries, however, the food was infused with Massiecaria, a native fruit to the people-aliens?- of Massie. The only downside really was the fluorescent neon purple pigment that added color to the yogurt.

 “I’m good but thanks for the offer, bud!” Lance declined gently pushing away Hunks hand.

 Hunk shrugged, not thinking much of the rejection. “What’re you doing up?” Hunk shoveled scoops of yogurt, the soon moving at a rate faster than Lance could focus his eyes on. Lance raised an eyebrow as Hunk choked on a small piece of fruit, asking if the latter was okay. Hunk nodded, clearing his throat a small bit.

 Lance laughed, internally cringing at the fake noise escaping his mouth. “Didn’t Shiro tell you to test the food before cooking?”

 Hunk shrugged, a sly grin forming on his face. “Only twice,” he joked.

 "You good, bud?” Hunk leaned towards Lance, reaching out and putting his free hand on Lance’s shoulder.

 Lance nodded, “Just fine. I left something in Blue so I was going to go get it.” Lance hated lying to Hunk. It was like taking a treat from a puppy and kicking it away when it begs for it back: wrong, sad, and made you so full of guilt that you are, without a doubt, a terrible, sick person.

“So you’re not pacing around the halls at 2 am because you’re overthinking what Pidge said a few days ago?”

Damn Hunk and his instincts.

Lance shook his head, “It’s not. I promise.” Lance mentally punched himself. “I’ll go to bed after I get my stuff.”

Hunk nodded in a skeptical understanding, deciding to leave it for another day, “Don’t be too slow. I overheard Shiro and Allura. We’re having a ‘surprise attack’ tomorrow morning so make sure you sleep as much as you can.”

Lance thanked Hunk for the information and waved him goodbye, watching him until his retreating back rounded a corner. 

The Cuban continued, walking past the bridge where the entrance to the Blue Lion would be.

When he stopped he was in front of the training room. He opened the door, the mechanisms sliding open to reveal the empty opening.

 He walked through, the sound of the door closing behind him the only noise other than his footsteps.

It was strange seeing the room empty. Normally Keith was in here, fighting being his only past time. 

He pulled up the score, a twinge of pain going through his chest at the scores.

Shiro: Level 7

Keith: Level 5

Hunk: Level 3 

Pidge: Level 3

Lance: 1 

Lance shifted uncomfortably. He had the lowest score, which to him wasn’t all that surprising, but still- it hurt to see it.

Lance pulled his Bayard from under his jacket. Activating it to see the weapon turn from it’s dormant state to his gun.

He tossed it between his hands, trying to grow used to the trigger and the shape of said Bayard.

Once situated he took a breath.

“Start training level one.” 

Lance did not sleep before the alarms rang the next morning.


	3. Work Harder #3

“Begin training level 4,” Lance spoke out. He prepared himself. The gladiator dropped from the ceiling and onto the floor. Lance shot at the robot, dodging as needed. The gladiator hit Lance with the end of his stick causing Lance to fall back.

“End training sequence.”

Lance attempted to get up only to fall back in exhaustion. He placed both hands on the ground was finally able to sit up. It took far too much effort just to stand up. He got in four steps before having to grab onto the wall for support. Everything hurt; his legs felt numb, his arms were bruised and heavy and his chest felt as if a car ran over him.

He limped into his bedroom, stripping down and climbing into the shower so he could wash off the blood and sweat from his body. He fell over twice trying to get the shampoo but luckily didn’t further injure himself.

Once out he dressed in his sleeping gowns that the castle provided and nestled into his bed ready for sleep.

Though he wasn't prepared for the noise.

Alarms blared loudly and Allura could be heard through the microphones.

Lance groaned in both annoyance and pain.

He lifted his legs off the bed. The shower had lessened the pain to the point where he could walk again but there was a slight limp on his right from where the robot hit it with its rod.

He pulled on a white shirt different from his usual attire since he wasn’t able to put last nights clothing into a washing machine. He did, however, keep his jacket to cover the multiple bruises littering his body.

Lance walked into the bridge, everyone staring at him with blank faces.

Lance cocked his head, “What?”

Allura shook her head, “You’re 10 minutes late.” She walked past the others, “Why?”

Lance looked up through his eyelashes, “Last night I was-”

“Nevermind,” she cut him off, “You’re never on time.”

Lance felt his stomach drop.

I’m sorry.

That was all he wanted to say but he couldn’t get it out.

“I was just-”

“Coran, can you hand me that panel right there?” Allura called out.

Lance looked down. His headache was coming back and his exhaustion didn’t help.

“Lance, let’s go,” Keith spoke out to him. While Lance was staring off into the distance the other paladins had decided to go to the training room.

“Oh, uh yeah.”

“Lance, to your left!” Shiro called out.

Lance dodged and swung his Bayard around to shoot at the robot. Having dead arms, he ended up doing a full circle because he didn’t have the strength to stop himself.

The gladiator’s strike that was meant for the Cuban male ended up hitting Keith in the back. It shoved Keith into Shiro, causing both to fall into Lance.

“Lance, what the actual hell was that shit?” Pidge asked from her spot on the floor.

“Pidge, language,” Shiro groaned.

“I’m sorry. Lance, what the actual heck was that shit?”

Shiro groaned once more in response.

“I’m sorry. My mind isn’t in the right place today. Just a bit distracted,” Lance explained. He climbed out from under the other two.

Hunk frowned, “Did you sleep fine?” He put a hand on Lance’s shoulder, “You seemed pretty spooked last night.”

Lance smiled, “Fine, really! Got a good 8 hours!”

Hunk smiled.

“Maybe you could use those eight hours to train more,” Keith grumbled.

Shiro pushed Keith off of him and stood up. “Lance, are you sure you’re good?”

Lance smiled, “Yeah. Let’s just try again?”

Shiro nodded.

“Start training level 3.”

Lance shook his head to clear out his thoughts. He took a stance.

The gladiator dropped down in front of him. It went straight towards him, ignoring the rest. It was as if it was on some auto lock system.

Lance aimed at the robot, his knee on the ground to keep him steady. He tried to align the robot and the gun but the robot kept jumping into the air. If Lance wasn’t as exhausted he felt he would’ve been able to hit his target.

But then again. He was hurt, tired, and his headache hadn’t gone away. His ears were ringing now, the noise never ends.

He pulled the trigger when the gladiator was only a few feet away. It moved out of the way. The shot aimed at the robot’s leg missed,  hitting Pidge in the stomach.

“End training sequence!” someone shouted. Lance couldn’t see straight. He almost collapsed to the floor but the adrenaline in his blood was too high. His heart pounded in his chest and he could feel his pulse pounding against his neck.

He hit Pidge.

“I-” Lance tried to say.

“What the hell, Lance?” Keith shouted. He slides over to Pidge in a protective hunch. He pulled back their hair, laying their head in his lap.

“Hunk, go get Coran and tell him to get a pod ready!” Shiro ordered.

Hunk nodded, racing out of the room. His voice carried from the hall to the training room. His calls for Coran finally snapping Lance out of his head.

“Shiro, I-”

“Lance, you’re not helping,” he snapped. Shiro kept his hands on Pidge’s neck, making sure that they still had a pulse. He let out a breath of relief when he found one.

Keith was furious. “You did this on purpose didn’t you?”

Lance stepped back, “What? No! I-”

“I don’t need a half-assed excuse!” He screamed.

“But I-” Lance tried desperately to speak.

Shiro shook his head, “Lance, I understand that what Pidge said hurt you but this is too far.”

“It wasn’t that! I’m just-”

“Lance, be quiet for once!” Shiro shouted loudly. Lance couldn’t breathe. Keith was frozen in shock.

“Just-” Shiro took a deep breath, “Go away, Lance.”

Lance looked down. He felt Keith glaring into his back as he turned to walk out.

He messed up again and he somehow managed to make it worse.


	4. Work Harder #4

_Blood stained the floor, a body in the middle of the pile. Lance stalked closer to it, the black platform under his feet threatening to give out with every step he took. His shoes soaked in the blood, staining the fabric red as he reached the body._

_“Pidge?”_

  _He knelt down, putting his hand on the side of the figure. He flinched at the feeling of blood covering his hand. It squished under the pressure he was applying, more oozing out of the wound in their stomach. He pulled, turning Pidge over onto their back. He sucked in a breath at the blood pouring out of their mouth. Their eyes stared at Lance. The golden color that held life was hazy and unfocused. Lance shook Pidge slightly, their head bobbing with every motion Lance made. Lance cradled their head, running a red hand through their hair. He held them close, wiping at their cheek._

  _Lance’s body jerked as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, eyes meeting steel. “Shiro-”_

 " _This is your fault.” Lance’s stomach dropped. The hand that was once on Pidge’s hand formed a tight fist. He glared intensely at his hand, the knuckles turning white under the force of his grip._

“I-” Lance swallowed, the tightness in his throat growing larger. He couldn’t deny it. The beam left _**his**_ **** _Bayard. The shot came from_ **_his_ ** _barrel. A life was lost with a tug on_ **_his_ ** _trigger.  Pidge was dead because of_ **_him_ ** _._

_The weight on his shoulder tightened, metallic finger beds digging into his skin just below his collarbone. “This is the second paladin you’ve put into a pod, Lance. This time it costed a life.” Lance nodded, a hand clasping over his mouth to smother the sobs trying to bubble out of him. He coughed into his palm, tears falling down his cheeks and over his fingers._

_“Lance,” Shiro’s voice was rough, broken as though he was screaming at Lance while the Cuban was submerged under water. The weight on his shoulder disappeared only to be applied to his neck._

  _Lance gasped, sucking in a breath. He dropped Pidge, both hands prying at the fingers locked on his skin. “Shiro-” He called out._

  _Lance kicked his legs as he was lifted into the air. He could hear Shiro talking to him, blaming him for previous mistakes he had made. He struggled, lungs burning and tears appearing in his eyes._

  _“I’m sorry, Lance.” Shiro threw Lance to the ground, the latter’s body falling helplessly on the floor._

  _Lance shook his head, trying to get the black dots to disappear. He opened his eyes once more to find that he was face to face with Pidge. He jumped up, his body covered in the metallic red. “Pidge-”_

  _Lance grabbed at Pidge, the other sinking from his gasp into the seemingly liquid floor. He watched, helpless as his hands passed through their body. They continued to melt into the floor, red liquid consuming them until all that was left was the leftover heat._

  _“Shiro, Pidge just-” Lance snapped his head up, sweat streaking down the side of his neck._

_“Why didn’t you save me, Lance?” Lance looked down the blade of the sword, eyes locking with Keith as he swallowed around the knot in his throat. “You should have been in the pod.”_

  _“I didn’t mean to-” Lance felt the ground under him soften, his knees sinking. The once solid platform turned to mush, swallowing Lance. Like quicksand, it gripped onto him, Lance unable to pry himself out. He kicked at his legs, meeting resistance far greater than his efforts at escape._

_The blood was up to his shoulders, the red splashing with every twist of his body. Lance called for Keith or Shiro, none of them said a word._

_Instead, they watched him, watching as he fell apart without so much as a glance in his direction._

 L _ance could taste the metal in his mouth, his screams muffled by the substance. He clawed at his throat, fighting the urge to inhale. He tried to swim towards the surface. Instead he felt as if there was a brick tied to his ankle that was dragging him down further._

_He felt himself suffocating. He could feel the lack of oxygen in his brain, his body giving out. He gritted his teeth, fighting his natural response to gasp for air. He gripped at the blood, he screamed with the air he didn’t have._

_He gave in, mouth opening in a desperate attempt to draw in air. He felt the burn of water in his lungs. He flinched as the burn traveled throughout his body._

_Lance couldn’t hold it in anymore, the world was fading and Lance couldn’t-_

_He couldn’t-_

___

 

Lance woke up with a silent scream, his body convulsing with the adrenaline in his blood. He took steadying breaths, each one shaky and unsure. He clutched his shirt just above the heart, pulling it away from his sweaty chest. He wiped at his face, shoving his sleeves onto his skin once he felt the tears fall from his eyes.

He widened his eyes, he threw off the covers, running to the lights. Pushing up his sleeves, he turned on the lights.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find. The blood had been in his dreams but the image of Pidge’s body had not been. It was stupid, having these dreams when he did. Pidge was safe. Pidge had forgiven him. Pidge had understood the mistake. Pidge had let him off the hook. 

He muttered these things to himself, falling onto his bed. He couldn’t find the motivation to get up. Not now.

Lance knew he was going to be late. He knew that today wasn’t going to be okay and that he couldn’t do anything about it. He knew that all that today was had to offer was training, and diplomacy, and the chance of getting killed, and that it was no different than normal.

Soon enough, Lance found it in himself to move. He threw the pillows and blankets aside, walking into the bathroom. He avoided the mirrors, knowing how disheveled he probably looked.

He splashed water on his face, deeming himself fit enough after other routine activities.

The artificial lights of the castle lit up with every step he took, the black of the corridors filling with soft blue hues that erased every shadow.

When Lance entered the Dining Hall, he wasn’t sure what to expect. The room was buzzing with noise, no one bothering to turn to the door sliding open.

He stepped through, entering the room without a word. It was normal, for him at least, not to talk. He’d been asked if he was alright and he’d answer with a small smile and a nod. Before the other’s could pry they’d be taken away or distracted and forget that they had spoken to him at all.

He pulled back his chair, taking his place beside Keith. Hunk smiled at him to which he gave a smile back.

Hunk’s smile faltered, “Are you gonna eat?” Hunk looked at the empty spot in front of Lance.

Lance shook his head, “No, not now.”

Hunk gave Lance a look, a sad glance that oozed concern and confusion all at once. “Just,” Hunk was at a loss for words. “Eat something? Today?”

 Lance nodded his head, putting his pinky up for Hunk to take. Hunk wrapped his finger along Lance’s, tugging on it slightly in a securing movement.

Standing up, Lance tucked his chair into the table. He made his way to the door. Training would start soon and he could use this time to warm-up.

“Are you not going to eat, Lance?”

Lance turned to Corran, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Oh, um. I’m fine. I was just gonna-” Lance pointed to the door, awkwardly moving towards the exit. “Yeah.”

Lance exited the room, his promise to Hunk forgotten.

-

“Start training level three.”

It was a level lower than Lance’s highest, giving him a little more confidence than he would with a level four bot.  

 The training robot dropped to the floor. It stood, combat ready with its staff in hand. It twirled the rod in its hand, walking towards Lance.

 Lance crouched, his Bayard changing into his blaster. He readied for an attack, aware of the bot’s fighting style.

 He lifted his gun up just as the rob struck, the force behind the hit pushing Lance back.

The robot let up, jumping back preparing to strike once more.

Lance adjusted his grip on the grip, his finger resting on the trigger. If he could find a way to off balance the bot, he could gain the upper hand.

He dodged the second strike, elbowing the back of the droid causing it to fall to the ground. He turned quickly, aiming down right at the center of the bot’s chest and pulled the trigger. The beam hit it's mark, burning through the metal and melting the entire center of the training bot.

The floor opened beneath the bot, the droid collapsing into the repair level underneath the training deck.

 “Lance?”

 The mentioned boy turned, his eyes locking with the wide ones of the Red Paladin. He looked from the man in the doorway to the gun aimed at Keith.

 Lance fumbled with his Bayard, quickly deactivating it and shoving it away. “Keith! Buddy! Hi!”

 Keith raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Do you aim a gun at all of your ‘buddies?’”

Lance laughed nervously, a hand reaching to the back of his neck, “Sorry ‘bout that. Kind of got me off guard.”

 Keith snorted, “I’d say.”

Hearing the snort was strange to Lance. It wasn’t that Keith didn’t scoff through his nose, he wouldn’t be Keith without it, but when applied to Lance he felt both… flustered and upset.

Lance’s smile faltered just as he turned away from Keith. Looking at the burn spot on the floor, he sighed, “So, did you come here to mock me or-”

“Christ, Lance.”

Lance looked at Keith, his body stunned.

In front of him was a record of everyone who’s used the training room. A record of stats and hours spent in there and how hard their body was working. Coran said something about it being used to look over the soldiers who would often spend time in the castle to train. A little feature to make sure that no one was overworking themselves or, in some cases, slacking off.

“Lance, this can’t be good for you,” Keith zoomed into Lance’s scores. “16 hours today?”

Lance shrugged, “yeah.”

“That’s not good for you-”

 The door slides open, a body running into Keith causing him to stumble forward. Strong arms clamped down on his forearms, keeping him from falling flat on his face.

 “Sorry,” Shiro apologize, lowering his arms as Keith recovered.

 Keith nodded, waving a hand at Shiro as in both a greeting and a _‘don’t think about it’_ kind of way. “It’s fine. Since you’re here you can tell Lance to take a break.”

 Crossing his arms, Shiro looked at Lance, “That doesn’t sound good.” He stepped forward, taking careful note of Lance’s hesitance in looking at him. “What happened?”

 Before Lance got the chance to speak Keith started to explain, “He’s been training non-stop for hours.” Keith dragged the projection over to where Shiro was, pointing at Lance’s records.

 Shiro scanned the data, somewhat impressed with the improvements before his eyes landed on the body scan. Shiro dismissed the screen, the image flickering before completely disappearing.

 “Take a break,” Shiro suggested, his arms crossing over his chest. “Keith and I were going to do some exercises and this would be a perfect time for you to rest.”

 Lance rubbed his arm, “I’m fine. I can just-”

 “Lance,” Keith interrupted, “Take a nap.”

 Lance looked at Keith and lifted an eyebrow.

Keith sighed, not seeing as to why he would have to explain to Lance. “Go take a nap,” he repeated, “talk to someone. Hunk was in the kitchen the last time I saw him. Just, do something other than train.”

 Shiro rested a hand on Lance’s shoulder. Lance held back a wince, his grip on his arms tightening. “I agree with Keith, no training. Relax.”

 Lance laughed, the sound forced and dull, “Sounds like something I would be telling you two.”

 Shiro smiled sadly, pulling back his hand, “Yeah.”

 Lance stepped towards the door. He waved at the duo, “See you all at dinner!”

 Keith and Shiro waved back, their faces full of concern as they watched the door close behind the Blue Paladin.

 -

“Whatcha makin’?”

 Hunk shrieked, tossing the bowl in his hands into the air. He whipped around, sighing as he realized it was only Lance.

 He thanked Lance, taking the bowl from his hands. “Altea had something like chocolate apparently. I’m trying to figure out how to make some.”

Lance leaned over Hunk’s shoulder to peer down at the recipe, “It’s in Altean.”

Hunk smiled sheepishly, his shoulders raised and a faint blush appearing on his cheeks, “A minor difficulty.” Hunk stared down at the paper, his polite smiled turning into a grimace and his welcoming eyes glared at the words written. “I was gonna have Pidge translate it or something but I haven’t seen them around.”

Lance flinched at the mention of their name.

_“This is your fault.”_

“I’m sure you’ll find a way,” Lance tried, his hand coming up to rub Hunk’s back. “Besides, if you can’t figure it out, Coran could probably translate it for you.” 

Hunk ginned at the suggestion, “Thanks, Lance.”

Lance shrugged, “No problem, buddy.”

Lance took a seat at the table, watching Hunk as he poured something into the mix.

Hunk was silent, contemplating whether or not he should say something about Lance’s behavior.

Hunk noticed Lance’s new found silence. He knew that Lance didn’t eat today or any sizeable amount in the past few days. He knew Lance didn’t sleep well, sneaking off in the middle of the night to spend hours training only to do the same a couple hours later.

“Lance, I-”

“I’m gonna go take a nap,” Lance blurted out, interrupting Hunk. He pulled himself up, pushing the chair in as he got to his feet. “Thanks for everything. I mean it.”

Hunk couldn’t find it in him to speak. The lump in his throat stayed, preventing Hunk from speaking as he watched Lance exit the room.

Hunk rested his hands on the counter, eyes downcast to glare at the purple dough in the bowl.

 Suddenly chocolate didn’t seem so appetizing.


	5. Work Harder #5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Pidge have an overdue talk.
> 
> Lance isn't being as secretive as he thinks he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Suicidal idealization
> 
> I finally finished revising this chapter. I ended up changing the entire end so they have a heart to heart instead of Pidge only saying that they need Lance.

Lance leaped up in cold sweat. His eyes stung with tears but he refused to let them out. His arms shook with fear as he brought his knees to his chest and wrapped them around his shins. He took in a shaky breath, rubbing his eyes to clear them as much as possible only for them to turn blurry once more. Lance let out a pathetic laugh, "I really am worthless, aren't I?"

Lance covered his mouth in an attempt to hold back a sob. He couldn't cry. He **wouldn't** cry. Crying makes noise and noises anger both Shiro and Keith.

Lance kicked off the covers in a desperate way to cool himself. The sheets fell softly to the floor in a way that only the mice would have been able to achieve.

These dreams were nothing new. They haunted him in a way that suffocated him, dragging him down and down until there was no hope of reaching the surface. Lance's mind, so he felt, was trying to kill himself. Constantly giving him reasons to relieve the team of stress in a simple way. A way that Lance had once considered.

Lance stared up at the ceiling. He couldn't let his team down. He couldn't let them fall because he was too careless. He couldn't take them apart, the family that Lance desperately wanted to be in. A place that Lance knew he'd never be accepted in.

Lance pulled himself up, ignoring the strain in his neck. He threw his legs over the side. Trying to stand, Lance placed his hand on the nightstand to steady himself.  He almost fell back when the first wave of nausea hit but he only held his head in his free hand and continued to walk. Lance dragged his hand across the wall, keeping a finger there to give keep him from running into the wall.

"Lance!"

The Cuban turned to greet the voice, "Hey, Coran." Lance smiled, flinching at how forced it must have looked.

Normally Lance would have been eager to see Coran, the older Altean’s stories filled the emptiness in Lance’s mind and he could manage to feel some sort of ease around Coran, the man naturally having a calming aura.

The ginger bounced happily down the hall, humming a song that Lance couldn't identify. Lance leaned away from the wall, resisting the urge to fall to the floor in pain. "Just the person I wanted to see!" Coran placed a steadying hand on Lance’s shoulder. "I need a little help cleaning the pods. After our last mission, a few of the pods are a little...worse for wear.”

Lance nodded. The last mission had been brutal, leaving half the team in the pods for a few days. He knew that they were probably dirty and that cleaning them would take a long while.

Stop complaining and help him. Be useful.

"Yeah, sure! I'll get on it right away!" Lance continued with his attitude, a fun one that would be hard to look under. It was getting tiring, all of the acting and false smiles when all he really wanted to do was lay down and bed; shriveled and defeated, just waiting for the darkness to claim him for eternity.

Coran placed his second hand on Lance’s other shoulder, the energy in his eyes slowly calming down to a warm gentleness as Lance's smile flinched, "Are you okay, my boy?"

Lance hummed, shrugging his shoulders to get Coran to drop his hands. He pushed his own hands into his pockets, leaning back away from Coran. He walked past Coran, stopping a few feet away from him "I'll just get the polish from the supply room. I'll meet you down there?"

Coran smiled weakly, his body stiff and timid, "Actually, I was going to talk to Hunk and ask him about his cooking. I don't know why, but everyone likes his food a lot." Coran leaned towards Lance, "I think he covers it with Hurtonak powder. Very addicting."

Lance gave a chuckle, "I don't think that's it, although I wouldn’t be very surprised if it was…” Lance said despite not knowing what Hurtonak powder was. Maybe it was some kind of space drug or something.

Coran shrugged, "When I was younger, there was a huge fight about Hurtonak powder in food."

"Oh really?" Lance questioned the Altean.

Coran smiled, "Yes! It was a huge deal! Everyone wanted some!  Even King Alfor had tried it despite knowing how addictive it was.” _Ah, space drugs._ “But those blasted Galra wanted it as well.

Lance frowned, fingers picking at the inside of his pockets. "This was before Voltron right?"

"Erm, yes. But I believe that the whole war started because they just wanted all of it and Zarkon ordered to have all the harvesting planets killed and looted. I mean, obviously it wasn’t the _main_ reason but it probably had some part in it. No one kills off an entire population and gets away with it. Especially when said man is Zarkon and as we know Zarkon is-”

"Coran," Lance interrupted, "I would love to continue this conversation but I'd best start cleaning the pods if I want to be done by today.

Coran, who was in his own world of powdery foods, nodded, "Oh! Of course, Lance. Sorry, I got a little off topic there.

Lance gave a nod in respect to the mustached man and continued on his way away from the Altean. His head pounded in his head, pulsing consistently. His migraine didn’t disappear and Coran’s rambling only made it worse.

Lance rested his head against the wall, trying to calm himself down. He took deep breaths, counting in threes. A system his sister taught him when Lance was hyperventilating over an assignment from school that he had been struggling with.

A hand was placed on the blue paladin's shoulder, "Lance?"

Lance flew back, "Pidge! Uh, hey!" He smiled at the smaller, trying desperately to calm himself down. What was up with people and _touching_ him?

"Are you okay?"  they questioned, moving their hand from his shoulder to his forehead. "Your face is all red and-"

"I'm fine, Pidge," Lance interrupted the Italian before they could finish. He stepped away, distancing himself from Pidge, forcing them to pull their hand away.

Pidge's gaze softened, "Lance..." they trailed off. They took a breath to steady themselves, "You know you can talk to me."

"I-" Lance looked down. He did know that but he couldn’t. His thoughts were his burden to bear. He agreed to find a different way of coping other than talking and he would, even if they were self-destructive.

Don't tell them, they don't need to know.

"I'm just a little sick. Maybe I'm getting a little fever," Lance tried to convince the younger. Be coughed into his arm, trying to keep up with the lie.  

A cool hand was pressed against his face once more, "Maybe you should ask Allura for a day off? I’m sure she’d let you off, especially since a sick paladin isn’t good for the team.” Pidge stepped away to completely look at Lance’s disheveled form.  "But knowing you, you won’t ask so I think you should take it slow. At least for today."

Lance smiled, appreciating Pidge’s concern, “Will do Pidgeon.” He couldn’t help the guilt that arose in his stomach.

No, he wouldn’t and he knew that. He knew that the promise he made was going to be broken, just like the one Lance had made to Hunk about eating. Lance didn’t care anymore. Overworked or not, Lance was still behind the team and to him, he was still a liability.

Pidge gave a nod and made their way down the hall, "Oh, and Lance?" The latter gave a hum, "Take care of yourself, we need you."

Lance froze, not expecting the last sentence. "wha-"

"I know that the past few months have been difficult for you. Being away from Earth may have affected all of us, but it’s affected you the most, I see that now. I know it’s late but…” Pidge sighed, tucking a strand of their hair behind their ear. “I’m sorry,” their voice broke halfway in between, “I’m sorry for what I said to you when Keith was… you know-” They waved their arms in a circular motion in front of them. “We all have different ways of coping. Some do it away from others while some are more…” They trailed off, seemingly unable to find the correct word, “ _open_ , about it. It wasn’t right of me to take that away from you.”

“Pidge-” Lance tried, moving towards the smaller one.

“You’ve just been so… _quiet_ ! It’s not normal. It’s not the same without you running around, poking at me. Hunk’s been on edge for _weeks_ now and Keith’s had so much pent up anger that I’m pretty sure he’s going to completely tear apart the next training bot he sees. Allura’s really stressed and seems one word away from snapping, Shiro’s not sleeping, and Coran pretends to be fine but really he’s not! And Lance, I can’t even start on you! You’ve been quiet, you’re not eating-” They shushed Lance as he opened his mouth to deny the statement, “Don’t lie. You’re skinny as fuck despite going to the training deck all the time. You’re straying further away from us and-”

Lance pulled Pidge in for a hug, wrapping his arms around them. He ran his hand through Pidge’s hair, holding back his tears as Pidge sobbed into his shoulder. “It’s alright,” he said, trying to steady his voice as well as he could. “I’m fine.”

It only made Pidge cry even harder, small sniffles turning into full-blown sobs. Lance cursed, scolding himself for making Pidge worse.

He could feel Pidge’s weight change, their already tiny body much smaller than the last time he had held them. Guilt overwhelmed him, in the process of hurting himself he had managed to hurt those around him. That wasn’t the intention and the reasonable part of Lance’s mind knew that he hadn’t realized it and that it was accidental.

The other, much larger, side of Lance’s mind was relentless. It purged on him, blaming him for the crying body in his arms. Lance was starting to panic, if this is how Pidge reacted, then how were the others? They were probably fine, giving Lance space, even if that was the opposite of what he truly wanted. Pidge never liked change and maybe Lance’s behavior had changed far to fast for them to adapt. Hunk was most likely okay, thinking that Lance had whatever was happening under control. Shiro and Allura were stressed enough and most likely didn’t notice the difference. Pidge would get used to Lance’s quiet and Coran would probably find someone else to go to. Everything would work out in the end.

But if that was the case, why was Lance so scared? Scared of change, scared of losing those around him, scared of leaving.

That was what he wanted, wasn’t it?

He buried his face into Pidge’s shoulder, holding them tighter. Pidge would be fine. They’d figure it out. They’re strong, they will get used to Lance’s silence and they’d forget him. The entire team would. Until then, Lance comforted Pidge. He would help the team forget him, make him leaving easier for them.

That would be what’s best for everyone, was it not?


	6. Work Harder #6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewrite: I'm so sorry this took so long to give out.  
> TW: Someone hits someone in the face after calling them unkind things.

Allura was on the bridge, staring at the star map. Her knuckles were white; fists resting on the panel beneath them. Her hair was thrown in every direction, what was left of the once neat bun was hanging loosely at the base of her neck.

Lance knocked on the wall before stepping in, trying not to flinch at the glare he caught as he made his way to were Allura was. She looked him up and down, judging eyes scanning over his tiny frame as he stood close to the doorway. She turned away quickly, returning her attention to the console in front of her. 

“Princess,” Lance started. He kept his distance, not daring to take another step closer as a forceful exhale escaped Allura’s mouth. He stood there awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other. He noted the part of her lips, how they moved with every word muttered. Not everyone was in English as some sentences were said out in ancient Altean. “Princess, you need to sleep.”

Allura only scoffed, never looking up from the technology in front of her. She tapped at something, clicking her tongue and the results before swiping it away. Blue lights flickered with every movement, bouncing off her tired, glowing eyes. They were strained, teary and blurred, focusing for only a second before her head jerked back up to keep scanning the screen for new readings. 

Lance swallowed the lump in his throat, hands making their way to his pockets. He made his way up the stairs to the center of the platform where the Altean was. The castle was programmed to a night setting, simulating nightfall on Earth and presumably Altea as well. The castle lights were dim, the soft humming of the engine the only other sound than Allura’s muttering.

Seeing that Lance wouldn’t leave her, Allura turned away from the screen, spitting out a quick “ _what do you want_ ” at Lance. Bags almost as dark as Lance’s marred her face, her eyes were slightly red from overuse. Is was easy to tell that Allura hadn’t been taking care of herself.

“I want you to rest,” the Blue Paladin rested his hand next to Allura’s on the panel. “You’ve been working nonstop, haven’t been showing up to meals, and you’re not sleeping. Everyone’s worried about you. Coran’s planning on turning everything off tomorrow to stop you unless you take a break.”

“I slept yesterday,” she tapped at on a solar system, reading charts before taking notes on another screen. 

Lance took her hand in his, “Passing out from exhaustion doesn’t count.” He applied a small amount of pressure on her hand, trying to comfort her. “Let’s go to the kitchen and get something? A drink at least.” 

“I don’t have the time, Lance,” Allura waved him off, “Go bother someone else.” Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment only to snap back open as her body fell forward. Her knees hit the ground, the screen blurring as she disrupted the connection. 

Lance was quick to be by her side, his arms wrapped around her. His hand was still intertwined with the princesses. “Allura, please-“

“I said I’m fine, Lance!” Allura shook under Lance’s jacket covered arm. Her lip was starting to bleed where her teeth pierced her lips. They trembled, quivering as she swallowed thickly, “I… I’m fine.” Her eyes glazed over, clouded with pain and exhaustion.

The weight of sympathy burdened Lance’s shoulders. He tightened his grip around Allura. “Listen,” he tried, moving his body so that he was in front of Allura, “you’re not fine, but that’s okay. We can take a small break, how about that? You can take a rest and I’ll help you finish what you’re doing.”

Allura shook her head, rejecting the offer, “No, no I can’t. This must be done in a few days and if I rest then I’ll be so far behind. I can’t-“

 “Allura-“

 “Get the hint, Lance!” Allura snapped at him, pulling her hand away from him. “I’m sorry that I have more important things to do than to babysit you all day and night. I have important duties, Lance. I don’t expect you to understand but I wanted more from you.”

 Standing up, Lance took the situation into his own hands. He turned off the console, making sure to save the notes first. The system was still buzzing from overwork but the screen lights shut off with a soft click and the room was submerged into darkness; the only light sources were the soft shine of the stars outside and the barely noticeable

Allura was shaking, her arms wrapped around herself as if she was trying to keep herself together. God knows if that was all that was left tying her together. Her crown was crooked atop her head, the gold band having shifted when she fell. Her hair completely fell out of the bun, now showing the true potential of the matted and tangled mess of her silver locks.

“C’mon,” Lance beckoned, a hand reaching out for Allura’s arm in an attempt to help her up, “off to bed we go.”

Having grown up with younger children in the house, Lance was used to the complaining that came along with the first hand striking nine on the clock. He made sure that his niece and nephew were in bed by no later than nine-thirty. Any later and it was impossible to get the kids tucked in and sleeping. He’s held hands while reading bedtime stories and shared his bed multiple times when they had nightmares. He’s been yelled at and called _‘estupido tío’_ enough that he thought he was prepared for anything.

Allura’s hand flinched away harshly, backhanding Lance across the cheek.  

They both froze, Lance’s face turning red where Allura’s hand made contact with his cheek. He slowly brought up his own hand to run a finger along the landmark. It stung. Badly. Allura’s altean strength not helping with lessening the impact of the blow. Tears gathered on the edge of his eyes but he blinked them away, the droplets catching on his eyelashes.

“Lance-” Allura, hesitantly reached out, her hand making its way to Lance’s wrist. 

Lance jerked away from her, his hand curling into a fist. He couldn’t stop shaking. Whether it was from exhaustion, fury, or his pending anxiety attack, Lance wasn’t sure, but from the insistent shivering of his body, Lance could only blame it on them.

 A shaky inhale was all he took and he looked up, a small smile cursed his face; tight-lipped and void of emotion.

 Allura looked in horror at the smiling paladin, unable to process what she’d done. She’d lay a hand on a paladin, on _Lance,_ who had only been trying to get her to sleep. She still hadn’t moved her hand from where Lance had pulled away. “Lance, I am so sorry. I-”

 Lance shook his head, that painful smile that Allura hated still cursed his lips. “It’s alright,” he had told her. But it really, really wasn’t. Allura knew that. Allura knew that Lance got into his own head, that he placed things on himself, and that he cared about the others on the castle-ship. 

Yet she had still placed a hand on him. 

And that sorrowful smile adorned on Lance’s face, trying to mask the tears that made his once starry night eyes turn into storm tormented oceans, was still there, mocking her. Feeding off of the guilt that reckoned her body.

She watched Lance get up, turning away from Allura before taking a few steps. He got to the door frame before he looked over his shoulder.

“Let’s go, Allura.”

Allura couldn’t do anything but follow.

-

Lance gripped his hair, pulling at it and scratching at his scalp. It burnt, his head not taking the action kindly yet Lance found comfort in the sting. It was grounding him, keeping him from going over the edge.

Lance gasped for a breath, his lungs burning as he took in more air.

Exhaling, Lance slightly loosened his grip, his hands shaking as he drew in another breath. He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth to keep it from quivering. He bit down, welcoming the metallic taste of blood his teeth sank into his skin. 

His body hurt, panic returning as he choked on his sobs making it harder for him to breathe.  His knees were pulled up to his chest, his head in between his thighs. 

_‘One word away from snapping,’_ Lance’s mind supplied. Lance yanked once more, wincing at the pain.

He should have been more careful. He shouldn’t have said anything. It was better to stay quiet. Pidge was wrong, no one needed him. He couldn’t help his team. He couldn’t calm her down. He thought he was good at this, helping his team. Being there when they needed him. But it was just a lie he made to try and validate himself.

He lied to himself and it hurt so much more than he thought it would.

Every instant where he thought maybe, maybe he might be useful or maybe he had a place here or even maybe that the team didn’t hate him ran through his head and each kind word said to him felt like knives. Digging deeper and deeper into his chest until his lungs were punctured and suddenly he was drowning on his own pathetic puddle of dark red blood.

He pulled even harder at that thought, the pain numbing some of his thoughts. He wanted to hurt. It was helping. If tugging at his hair brought him so much relief then he wanted more. He wanted out of his thoughts. To distract himself from the pain of his realities. 

He wanted it to be gone. To get rid of the pain forever. To aid the Paladins by removing the problem by eliminating the source. He wanted out and the castle was full of ways to dispose of himself without the other’s having to clean up after him. He couldn’t burden them with that. They were still under the illusion that he was some special human who was bound by Fate to help fight against the evils of the universe. But why would Fate be so cruel as to make someone so important to them so useless? Why would Fate make him weak if he was supposed to be strong? 

His hands left his head to fall into his lap where _it_ was. Lance grabbed it, twirling it a few times, wondering how it came to this point. The sharp edge of the blade nicked at his finger, small amounts of red smearing across the pad of his fingertips and it felt _good_.

He pulled up his left sleeve, revealing the tan skin just under it, unscarred and soft. Lance stared at it, knowing it would be the last time he would be it like this. He placed the blade on his wrist, his right hand shaking with the weight of what he would do next. He pressed down and he was numb.

Red is Lance’s favorite color, he concludes. With all of its meanings, Lance could relate to that color the most. People only saw Lance as one thing: Flirtatious. Now they added another trait: Killer. He was a soldier used to the smell of blood, used to the feeling as his rifle brought down a target, and used to the game of war. Just as the color red represents love and war, it hides other meanings. Ones that people know but don’t think of right away. Madness. Danger. Warning. But the dark rich color of blood was intoxicating. It showed all of these emotions all at once. It brought out pain and hurt and everything Lance was too afraid to show them. 

A sharp knocking pulled Lance out of his daydream.

The Blue Paladin shot up, calling out for the person to “hold on a second” and that he’d “be right there”. Lance shoved the knife into his closet, stuffing it under piles of clothing before slamming the door shut. He wiped at his eyes in an attempt to rub away the redness that marred them. Throwing on his previously discarded jacket, Lance made sure that nothing on his arms were showing.

 With a little water thrown on his face and a comb to his hair, it was hard to tell what Lance was doing just a few minutes prior to opening the door, the only giveaways his puffy eyes and irritated nose.

Lance placed his palm on the sensor, allowing the person who knocked into the room. He stepped to the side, watching with hesitant eyes as they made their way across his room and sat on his bed. 

“So, I heard some yelling. Want to talk about it?”

Lance grabbed onto the upper part of his left arm, “Nothing to talk about, Keith.” It was a lie, an obvious one at that. If Lance’s blank tone didn’t give it away then his guarded pose and reluctance to make eye contact definitely did.

Keith knew it too. He leaned forward to that he was cross-legged with one arm propped on his knee holding his head. His lips pressed into a straight line and he looked at Lance expectantly.

Sighing, Lance moved to the bed, plopping himself down next to the Red Paladin.

Of course, Keith would have heard the argument. The only other person who would be up would be Shiro but Lance had made sure that the older male had gone to bed before his attempt to persuade Allura to do the same.

  _And that went so well_ the voice in his head nagged him.

He should’ve kept in mind that there was one other individual who would be walking around at night. Keith could never stay still long enough to actually get a decent amount of sleep. The training room was only a hallway down from the control room and from how loud Allura had yelled there was no doubt that Keith had heard all of it.

 Lance laid down so that half of his body was hanging off the bed while the other half rested beside Keith. “Allura’s just stressed. You know how she is, all…” Lance waved his arms around, Keith leaning away to avoid the hand that brushed past his face. “She’s just stressed and needed an outlet.”

 Lance turned away from Keith’s confused frown, unwilling to look at violet-blue eyes and see the pity behind them. He pulled himself up so that he was sitting normally, arms wrapped around his legs as he shuffled back until he was resting himself on his headboard.

“What do you mean she needed an outlet?” Keith pushed himself back to join Lance, sitting only a few inches from the other boy. 

Lance shook his head, “Nothing. She just needed to say a few things.” A few things had turned into many things which turned into a full one-sided argument and a hand to Lance’s face. No big deal. Totally happens all the time. Allura’s busy and Lance shouldn’t have interfered. 

“You know, the castle walls aren’t that thick, Lance. I heard some things,” Lance’s head snapped to the side where he looked at Keith’s face; his sharp jawline, long fluttery lashes, and clenched fist. “She shouldn’t be yelling at you like that. Especially when you were only trying to help her.”

“It’s fine, Keith,” Lance continued on, his mind repeating only that phrase in the troublesome broken record blaring through his mind. 

He was drowning, ironic for the Blue Paladin but that’s what it was. There was a stone tied to his ankle and someone had thrown him overboard and he was sinking quickly to the bottom of the ocean. He was kicking his free leg and try to push himself up as hard as he could but the stone only grew larger with each attempt at freedom.

“No, it’s not. She had no right to talk to you like that,” a hand wrapped around Lance’s bicept, the hesitant touch not unnoticed by the younger. “You were only trying to help, that shouldn’t get you yelled at.”

 Lance shook his head, not willing to pull away from Keith just yet, “I pushed her to that point. She asked me to stop but I didn’t.”

“You did the right thing. If you hadn’t gone in there, imagine what she would have been like tomorrow. You managed to convince her to sleep, Lance.” Lance shook his head, his arms wrapping around himself tighter.

Keith’s hand left Lance’s arm, only to intertwine with Lance’s hand. Lance looked down at their interlocked fingers, Keith’s hand tightly gripping his own lax one. “You can’t beat yourself up over this. It’s not your fault. I don’t know what she did after everything went quiet, but you can’t blame yourself for what happened in there. You’ll be alright, Lance.”

Lance was drowning and there Keith was, sticking a hand into the water for Lance to hold onto and like an idiot-

_He grabbed his hand._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro’s redemption.  
> Just let the man take a nap.  
> Lance isn’t having it.  
> It’s two in the morning so it’s pretty short... oh well amirite?  
> Trigger warnings: 
> 
> Implied self harm  
> (Impulse control disorder)  
> Self deprecating thoughts.

Start training level 47.”

It had been three months since the Keith Accident.

It had been two months from the Pidge Accident.

It had been one month and thirty days since he skipped a solo lesson.

It was starting to become noticeable in his physical appearance. While Lance’s muscled were further defined, his lack of appetite kept him small and slender. Dark bags that were far worse than any Pidge had ever gotten hung from his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept, at least enough to have a nightmare. Normally he passes out for 20-40 minutes.

It was worse mentally.

His lack of sleep caused his thinking to slow, causing him to be unable to form complete sentences. However, the lack caused his reflexes to sharpen but his body was too exhausted to actually move in time with them.

His arms and legs constantly burned but not from the training bot ( that too but this was different.)

His thoughts were occupied by self deprecating ideas. They told him that he was nothing and that he was inadequate compared to the rest of the residents in the Castle of Lions.

Lance tore the gladiators apart. It took 20 seconds to take out all three of them. A screen popped up, telling him where he aimed and what injuries would have occurred had the gladiator actually been a living being.

“A little to the left,” he mumbled to himself, trying to keep himself upright. His knees gave out beneath him, “just one more-“

“Lance?”

Said boy jumped, his knees leaving the ground for just a second. He placed his hands on the ground lifting himself and scrambling to get up, “Sir.” He still refused to look at the other.

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

Lance kept his gaze to the floor, “I’m sorry.”

Shiro cocked his head to the side, “why? Lance, you don’t have to apologize for every little thing you do.”

“Sorry,” The Cuban could help but say. He wrapped his arms around him, not knowing where exactly to place the long limbs. He could feel the slight itch he felt constantly grow larger as Shiro neared him. He gripped his hands around his forearm and dug into the black suit under it.

Shiro shook his head, “Lance... you need to wear your armor when you train. What if something hits you and you get seriously injured and no one’s nearby to help you?” Concerned dripped steadily in his tone. He walked toward the younger and placed a hand on his shoulder. If he felt the slight flinch Lance gave then he ignored it.

Lance almost laughed at the idea of someone coming in and finding him bleeding on the floor and actually caring. Maybe Hunk would be a little sad but only for a day or two. “It weighs me down.”

Shiro moved again and placed his hands around the younger’s head. He lifted Lance’s head so that the Cuban could look him in the eye, “What’s wrong.” He didn’t ask. He demanded.

Lance took in the sight of the Black Paladin. His hair was growing in a bit and his eye lashes were as thick as ever, “Nothing, Si-“ he cut himself off before he could use the title he grew accustomed to, “Shiro.”

“Lance,” he warned, his tone deep.

Lance wrapped his hands around Shiro’s wrist before gently pulling them away from the smooth skin. He kept his hand on Shiro’s, watching as he slowly dragged them down between them. Shiro’s robotic jjarm felt cool against his warm one while his human hand was the opposite. He stayed in silence trying to collect his thoughts, “It’s best if I leave the team.”

He felt Shiro’s grasp weaken before they grabbed tightly onto his own, “What?” Shiro’s heart pained at the declaration, “Lance no-“

“I keep everyone from improving, Shiro,” Lance cut off the older. He no longer held onto Shiro’s hand but Shiro kept him in his clutch.

Shiro searched desperately for any sign of joking. It completely hit him when he could find it.

“Who’s going to pilot the Blue Lion if you leave, Lance? Who!” Shiro was panicking. He would lose another team.

“I’m just a place holder, Shiro. Blue’d waiting for her real paladin and she can’t do that if I’m in the way,” Lance argued back. He ripped his hands away from Shiro’s and stepped back.

“Please, Lance, we need you!” Shiro yelled desperately. His panic causing him to lose all self-control. He marveled at Lance’s calmness. Never once raising his voice or stepping out of line.

He gave a smile, a gesture so small yet so significant to the older. Shiro’s blood ran cold at the next words uttered from Lance’s mouth.

“You haven’t needed me in a long time.”

“Lance...” Shiro trailed off, his mind unable to comprehend anything that was happening. “The universe needs you.”

Lance’s smile dropped, leaving the expressionless face that unnerved not only Shiro but all of the paladins and Altean’s. “The universe needs voltron, Shiro. I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

“But-“ Shiro called out desperately, a final attempt at getting Lance to look up.

“Goodnight, Sir. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

The door closed behind the Cuban, leaving the other to stand in a shocked silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are appreciated and constructive criticism is welcomed!


	8. #8

Lance flinched as the kick buried itself in his abdomen. He silently cursed, his eyebrows coming together in an attempt to stay focused.

 

Lance ducked under the hook that was aimed at his lower left jaw, opting instead to swipe his leg under the other, bringing him down onto his back. He grabbed the raven-haired male into a headlock, wrapping his legs around him leaving only a hand, which pounded on the floor signifying defeat, free. “Giving up already, Keith?”

 

Keith wiped his lip, a scowl clear on his face, “That’s illegal.” He rubbed his neck, trying to sooth the pain and gain his breath back, “That choke hold is illegal.”

 

Lance cocked his head, “Maybe on Earth but not in space, Mr. Excuses. Besides, it wasn’t pressing _that_ hard.”

 

“You put me in an air choke, Lance,” Keith said, he pushed Lane onto his back with his hand, not doing much for they were still on the floor.

 

“Sucks to be you then,” Lance shot back without thinking. He rolled back, using the force to get up, “Another one?”

Keith smirked, “You gonna cheat again?” He ran his hands through his hair, letting his fingers detangle the many knots that formed during his time with Lance.

 

“Isn’t cheating if it’s in space,” Lance strained to pull his lips in a smile, “Besides, I’m gonna kick your ass anyway. Cheating or not cheating.” He offered his hand to Keith.

 

Keith took it and pulled himself up, “Thanks.” He watched Lance pull down his sleeves, his eyes never leaving the floor of the room, “You okay?”

 

Lance visibly shook, “What?” He looked at Keith, unintentionally letting the other observe the bags under his eyes and the wetness of his eyes. “Oh, yeah. I’m good.”

 

“Lance, when was the last time you slept?” Keith stepped towards the blue paladin, the other taking a step back.

 

Lance raised an eyebrow, “Last night?” He pulled on his ear, “The full six hours ‘llura gives us.”

 

Keith shook his head, “No, not possible. Shiro told me he found you training around two in the morning.” Keith hesitated, “Are you-” He stopped to compose himself, “Stop lying to me.”

 

Lance picked at the grime under his nails. “Two days,” He confessed, “I haven’t slept in two days.”

 

Keith placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder, careful of the bruise he left earlier, “Why?”

 

“Just homesick,” Lance smiled.

 

Keith tightened his grip, “Lance.”

 

Lance placed his own hand on the one on his shoulder, “I’m fine.”

 

Keith frowned, “You’re sure?”

 

He squeezed it, “Promise.”

 

Lance turned to walk out the door, the metal closing soon after his departure.

 

Keith didn’t mention when Lance’s jacket raised.

 

Keith didn’t mention the lines on Lance’s wrists.

 

Instead, he watched Lance leave. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment and a kudo! 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @Why-not-langst-haha-kill-me or @drowning-in-langst. 
> 
> Both are fanfics account dedicated to Langst. 
> 
> Why-not-langst is dedicated to my chapter fics and longer one-shots while Drowning-in-langst is for spur of the moment fics that I decide to write out of nowhere. 
> 
> Thank you!


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